Spark
by srslyallison
Summary: Christine Chapel's first, but certainly not last, experience with motherhood. Spock/Chapel oneshot.


**((A/N just a little oneshot featuring christine chapel, spock, and some bones thrown in for good measure c: thanks for reading!))**

A very anxious young woman sat in the medical bay, this time as a patient rather than as an employee. "I hope you don't mind, doctor," she began, her entire body moving in some way, as if that chair was making her nervous. She looked up at the man who was fumbling with some supplies, a lock of her blonde hair falling into her eyes. "I mean, I just didn't trust anyone else to run this test for me."

"Don't mention it, Chapel," came his gruff reply. He looked down at her as he prepared the reverse hypospray. "One of these days you'll have to start trusting these young buck doctors. I know they're just out of Academy, but…they kind of always will be." He looked down at her. "And I have to admit, I'm worried you don't trust my judgment in picking them." He raised his eyebrow, shaking his head, and putting some settings onto the canister.

"I trust your judgment. It's their newbie hands I have trouble getting over." Christine Chapel smirked up at him. "Please, you weren't doing anything anyway. And I know you'd keep a secret, if…y'know. It turns out to be positive." She looked down to her lap at that while he slipped on some gloves.

"Don't think like that, darling. Positive attitudes make for positives results." He said that phrase as if it accidentally popped out of his mouth, and he'd spat it right in her face. "That's just the doctor talking…"

"Yeah, no, Starfleet taught me that generic phrase, too," she said, and gave him a small look before offering her arm to him. He spread some paste around the inside of her elbow. "I hope it is positive, though. I've always wanted to do this…I don't know that Spock and I were trying, but he's never been opposed to the idea of reproducing. It's kind of innate for him to want to reproduce."

McCoy shook his head as he put the hypospray to her skin, and held her arm down. It didn't matter who you were, taking blood was painful, and he knew it. He activated the hypo and she winced, but looked prepared for it. "So the two of you talking about having kids, did you? Me and Nyota talked a little bit about it, but…" he shrugged, watching the amount of dark red blood fill up the canister.

"You two would make excellent parents," Christine said, idly. "You'd be tough on your kids. Wouldn't you?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I was never too tough with Jo. But I might be with her when she's older." He didn't seem very invested in this conversation. Then again, he was probably just nervous, she decided. "You should get your results in a few minutes once I've run this. You know the whole criteria for the test…treat the injection sight for a day or two, blah blah."

He pulled the hypospray from her skin, which appeared to be suctioned on. It left behind a bright red ring and some beads of blood. "I'll go work on some chart work, then, while I wait. Are you going to come get me when the results come back?" She looked as if she was trying desperately not to seem excited. Christine didn't want to be disappointed if the results were negative, after all. She'd get excited after good results.

"I will, yeah. Make sure you sign off on Riley's chart, he came in with neck pain," McCoy explained, and left to go begin the pregnancy test for his head nurse. Christine Chapel stared at his back anxiously, as if he already knew the results of the test, before finally going back to her job.

----

Spock, after his shift had been completed, headed back to his quarters, looking forward to some time for meditation. It was so rare he got time for that anymore…he was usually preoccupied with the ship's well being, babysitting his captain, or spending time with Christine. She had claimed to be feeling under the weather lately, so he decided he would send her a nice message to her PADD, and be done with it. She didn't like to be seen while she was sick.

He opened his door and looked down at Christine sitting on his couch, staring at a small medical device. Spock took her in before speaking; she appeared to him to be very pensive. He walked in further, standing over her, and he cleared his throat. "I did not expect you, Christine. Your presence is, however, welcome."

All of a sudden, without any warning, Christine leapt up from her seat and wrapped her arms around his stiff neck. She was laughing loudly, and even jumping up and down a little bit. His arms went open but didn't embrace her until after he had assessed the situation, and realized this was an incredibly positive situation. He glanced down at her, raising his eyebrows down at her beaming smile.

"Guess. What."

Spock raised only one eyebrow, now. "I am unaware of the news you are so jubilant abo—"

"I'm pregnant!"

Instantly, Spock's cheek turned a dull green color and he had to stop himself from stumbling back. He looked down at her. Emotions lit up inside of him, and he had to use everything in his power to relax himself. He gazed down at her, his entire body tense. "You have received your test results today?"

"Yeah," she replied. After a moment of staring at him, her smile was beginning to waver. "Ooh my goodness. You're…you're not happy about this news, are you? You don't want me to be pregnant, do you?" she asked, and gulped loudly, stepping back to sit against the couch. "I thought you'd be happy. I mean, I know we weren't really actively trying for a child, but you always seemed keen on the idea of being a father. And I've always wanted to be a mother…more than I've always wanted to be a nurse. And…"

She stopped when she felt Spock's warm finger on her lips, and she looked up. His calm voice soothed her once again. "I am not unwilling to be a father, Christine. My reaction was simply…surprise. It was, however, a positive reaction." He removed his finger from her lips, and she grinned wildly up at him. He had never seen a more positive-looking human in his entire life. "I am most willing to support you in parenthood."

"Ooh, Spock…" Christine stood up again, grabbing both of his hands and enlacing her fingers in with his. "You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that…" Tears began to gather and roll down her cheeks. "All I've ever wanted to do is be a mom. I just…want to take care of a little baby, my baby, and raise them and protect them from the world but still let them experience things every single day. I want to have that love, and nurture the child, and just be everything I can be." She gazed up at him, looking lost in her own speech. "I want to dedicate my entire being to this child, so that they'll be able to do the same."

Spock felt dizzy. He had no idea she felt this passionately about it. He brushed away a tear, frowning. "It is common for humans to shed tears during moments of intense happiness…" he reminded himself out loud. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "I am just as thrilled as you are, Christine. I hope you trust my enthusiasm."

"I wouldn't doubt it for the sun."

The two of them kissed for a moment, and Christine began to go into detail about the email she sent her friends, the appointments she made with McCoy during the next nine months, and the fact that she had already registered at a designer maternity wear online store.

----

Three weeks had passed since the good news. Spock had been remarkably more cheerful than usual, though his cheerfulness was quite subtle. He made his way to the medical bay one afternoon to surprise Christine with a piece of chocolate from her hometown. He entered, looked around, and finally spotted Dr. McCoy working at a computer kiosk. Spock walked up to the man hesitantly. Spock's encounters with Dr. McCoy often left him frustrated with the human race.

"May I inquire as to the location of Miss Chapel?" Spock asked politely, putting his hands behind his back.

McCoy looked back up, and then down at the kiosk. "Last I knew, I sent her back to her quarters after it happened."

Spock's stomach twisted. "After…what, happened, Dr. McCoy?" He watched as the good doctor looked up, and immediately looked nervous. "Is Miss Chapel harmed in any way?" The alarm in his voice was subdued quite a bit, though not as much as he would have hoped.

McCoy frowned. "Ooh, I…I thought she told you already…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Since you're the father, I suppose you should know, if she hasn't told you already. When Chapel started her shift this morning, she…went through a miscarriage." McCoy allowed that to sink in, but based on Spock's physical reaction, it didn't seem to compute.

In all actuality, Spock's stomach was twisted with intense disappointment and anger at the circumstances. "Is she harmed?" he repeated, his lips thinning and his eyes getting darker as he stood there.

"No, I just wish we would have seen it coming. I preformed the necessary procedures and sent her on her way a few hours ago. I've never seen her in the way that she was…I've seen that woman burst into louder tears that Joanna ever cried, but the way she was so…quiet the entire time. She didn't even interrupt me when I was giving her the procedure notes." He shook his head.

"I would've thought she'd have told you…poor thing. She was tore up real bad." He sighed, looking back up at him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Spock. Pass that on to Chapel, too…she'll be needing it."

"I appreciate that, doctor," Spock said, solemnly. "I will forward the message to Christine. Thank you for your help in this matter."

----

When Spock opened the door and saw her, his heart sank. She was sitting on her couch, hunched over and curled up like a cat. The room was deathly silent…usually Spock could hear the occasional cooing of Zippers, her tribble, or an old song she would dance to. The only light in the room was the light coming from the hallway outside. Even for humans, the room was frigid. He shut the door behind him and stood there, staring at her.

He turned on one light, and looked down to see her face. It was red, puffy, and tearstained. Her hair was an absolute mess. Spock only just began to notice that the contents of her desk were spilled onto the floor, haphazardly littering the floor. She wore a pair of shorts and a tank top. Spock wondered how she wasn't shivering.

"Christine…"

Spock wasn't sure what to say to her. He stood over her while her piercing blue eyes stared forward at absolutely nothing. What was he supposed to say to soothe her? She was grieving, and was probably distraught over what she may have perceived as a mistake on her part.

He sat down on the couch next to her, staring at her. He put a hand on her upper arm, and was shocked at how cold her skin was to the touch. She finally turned to see him, but looked blank. "I guess you heard," she croaked out, and instantly, her bottom lip began to shiver. She looked utterly devastated; she looked as if she could never be happy again. This broke Spock's heart.

"Doctor said it was just…unexplained. That happens sometimes. You know, just…something goes wrong, and the child is just miscarried." Christine's nose turned upwards at that word. She acted as if was some horrible name somebody had called her earlier. Christine shifted slightly, her back hunched over but her eyes looking up at him. "Something goes wrong with the mother—"

"It would be illogical to infer there is something inferior about you, biologically or otherwise—"

"No, Spock!" she snapped, so suddenly and coldly, that it worried him. This was not the happy, bubbly Christine everyone knew. "It is my fault. I couldn't even keep this baby alive. I couldn't even do what I was put in this universe for, to just have a baby and keep it alive long enough to thrive…"

"That is not your soul purpose, Christine," Spock said softly. "I believe we are granted more than one purpose."

She just sort of shrugged his hand that rested on her shoulder and looked down. Spock frowned ever so slightly, and began to think of a different approach. "I also believe that whatever is meant to happen, will happen. It did not come to fruition; that was not its purpose."

Christine looked up at him, looking colder than the room they were in. "Don't. Call the baby that. Don't say 'it'. They were a living, breathing being."

"I apologize…"

Christine looked back down. "I also feel embarrassed. I told everybody. They all wanted me to be a mom. Hell, even Sulu was nice for a second about it…and you know how he can be with me." Her hand subconsciously went to her abdomen, like it had been the past few weeks. "And I have to let them all down. I let them all down."

"This was no mistake of yours, Christine," Spock said, trying hard to get her to pay attention to reason. "As you said, some things in medicine are simply unexplained. Our child was not meant to live in this world with us." That made tears well up in her eyes, and he instantly regretted this point, but continued to make it anyway. "This is no fault of yours. This is nobody's fault. It simply is."

"You don't seem to understand…this is my job. My job is to care. I love my job. And I couldn't do it." She stared forward, slipping slowly into a softly sobbing state. "I couldn't do it. Do you know how disappointing I must be to everyone?" her voice was getting louder and louder, the more she spoke. "I wanted to have that child so bad! I wanted to be a mom more than anything! I got so excited to watch over a baby, and send them to school, and do art projects, and…"

Finally, she fell into him. She put her forehead against his shoulder while his arms snaked around her. He'd heard and seen her cry before, but he had never witnessed her sob like this. They were loud, unabashed tears, permeating through his ears and hitting him right in his heart. She sounded desperate for one more chance at motherhood, or at least one more chance on this day.

He stroked her hair, trying to calm her down. "Christine…no matter what, through this and into the future, I will love you. I am not disappointed in you. I am proud of you for helping me to create life in the first place." This was making her cry harder again, but he knew it wasn't out of sadness. Spock looked down at her very seriously, taking her head in his hands. He wiped away some of her tears, knowing they would only be replaced by more, but he went ahead and wiped those, too.

"I do not consider you or your body a failure. I consider you human, just…as I consider myself. Perfection is not among your traits, and for that, I am grateful. No fault will be placed on you. If someone wishes to blame you for the situation, then I must infer they are not your true companions. I am willing to say that nobody like that is on this ship."

Without another word, Christine fell into him again, and he allowed her to. He allowed her to all night, and would have allowed her to well into the morning had not fallen asleep in his arms, on the couch.

----

Seven months had passed since that unfortunate incident. Christine struggled with the grief for what felt like years, but she was finally beginning to come out of it on top. The loss of her child hit her harder than anyone expected it to, but then once it did, they realized how unexpected it should have been.

The two of them sat in the medical bay. Spock looked calm, as usual; Christine, however, looked like a ball of nerves. She was pacing around the room while Spock sat in a chair, curled up slightly, and stared forward expectantly. He watched her walking back and forth until finally McCoy entered, looking rather weathered.

"Well, congrats. It's a bouncing baby Vulcan."

Christine's smile was bright, but not as bright as it would have been seven months and one day ago. Spock rose and shook McCoy's hand politely before the doctor left them alone. Spock turned to look down at Christine, expecting her to have a wide grin crawling across her face, but instead he saw a small smile.

"Are you displeased with the news?" he asked, bending down somewhat to look her in the eye. He saw fear and instantly understood why she was not beaming up at him with rosy cheeks and watery blue eyes.

"I'm thrilled," she replied, breathlessly. "I am. But…I just don't want it to happen again…" Christine wrung her hands for a moment until Spock held onto them, not allowing them to be anxious like the rest of her. "I'm terrified I'm going to have to go through that again. I'm just terrified."

Spock considered what he would say before he said it. This was a delicate subject, after all. He looked her directly in her eyes as he spoke. "I believe, Christine, that while a healthy fear would be logical, dreading over events that have not yet transpired is both exhausting and unnecessary." He nodded, content with his answer. "You should allow yourself to enjoy the circumstances. I believe I will be."

Christine finally smiled as wide as everyone would expect her to. "You know…I think you're going to make a good father." She took his hand and placed it on her abdomen. He held it there, gently, like he was already cradling the child in his hands.

"I believe you will be the most exemplary mother to have ever been graced with her child's life."

He kissed the top of her head and glanced down at her abdomen, admiring it with a look Christine had never seen before. She looked forward to seeing that look every day, though.


End file.
